


wake me up (i hate this dream)

by sunkist (shadowkissed)



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Comfort, Finding refuge in someone, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Stalker, please save him, probably not the kind of thing you want to read for fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:07:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24098557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowkissed/pseuds/sunkist
Summary: beomgyu is being stalked and he finds safety in a pair of gentle eyes belonged to choi soobin.
Relationships: Choi Beomgyu/Choi Soobin
Comments: 47
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> tw/  
> stalking, trespassing, nightmares, terrors, anxiety, panic attacks

The lamp at the end of the street is broken again.

It has been the third time this month alone, and it should not be much of a problem. At least not when Beomgyu has to be home this late, walking in the darkness after the last hint of light stops illuminating his path from the previous lamp on this street.

He hugs his bag to his chest as he picks up his steps. The almost battered apartment building is just a few meters away from him. Just a few more steps, and he will be safe.

Beomgyu is not a scaredy cat. He prides himself as the brave one whenever his group watched a horror movie or when they visited a haunted house attraction. But everything feels off for him these days. There is no way to feel safe when he constantly feels a pair of eyes staring at him on the back of his head, only to find no one behind him.

It’s a paranoia he developed after that first letter he got on his mailbox. The first one out of many.

As he steps into the apartment complex, he greets the security guard cheerfully, glad to know that someone else is with him. Yet as he ventures deeper, stopping by the dark corner where the mailboxes are, he feels the fear creeps inside his chest again. His fingers tremble as he reaches for the box with his name plastered on it. The cold metal of the handle stings him the moment he curls his fingers around it and pulls.

There it is again, the yellow envelope.

Despite the bright and hopeful looking envelope, it makes him want to scream. His heart beats madly inside his chest as he grabs it and rips it open, almost sending the contents scattered over the dirty floor if he wasn’t quick enough to claw them.

It’s a picture of him smiling so joyfully while eating a steaming fish-shaped redbean bun. He remembers it clear in his head, knowing that it was taken last week since he was the one who ordered a box of the snacks for the art club meeting. There is no way this was taken by one of his club members.

On the back of the picture, printed several lines of writing:

_You still eat the fish bun this way, just because you want to kiss it good bye before you eat it slowly from the head. That’s one of the most adorable things I find from you. Never change._

and if this was sent to him on the day he had that snack, he would claw his own throat just to get rid of the food from inside his stomach. How could this person even know about that silly thing he only tells to his closest friends? Why do they even care?

As he closes the mailbox, his energy is drained from his system. He falls into a squat, clutching onto the crumpled paper in his palm as his mind goes through a hundred different possible outcomes of this situation. All ended in negative notes.

While he is busy contemplating about his life, he didn’t notice a movement from behind him. Only once a hand landed on his shoulder that he jerks back on his feet, almost screaming from the top of his lungs. The sudden movement makes his head lightheaded for a second, stumbling backwards until his back hits the metal of the mailboxes.

He expected his nightmare to materialize right there, in the form of a person in a black ski mask, holding a camera and a knife. Instead, he’s greeted by a very concerned face of Choi Soobin. It takes him one, two, three seconds to calm his heart down, exhaling a sigh as he registers the fact that he is safe.

“Are you feeling sick?” the guy asks. A hand hung uselessly between them as if he’s prepared to catch Beomgyu if he lost his balance again.

It’s not like they are close or anything. They had one class together last year and barely exchanged conversations since there weren’t any group projects for that class. He only started talking to the guy again since his girlfriend lived in the same apartment building and he visited a lot. It’s not like they are friends, yet Beomgyu feels the urge to break down right there. Wants to crawl into the comfort provided by the pair of gentle eyes.

“I’m just hungry, I guess,” he shakes his head, hiding the crumpled paper behind his back. “I have to go up.”

Soobin nods, shouldering his bag. He looks ready to go, but his eyes are still on Beomgyu, scrutinizing him. “Is something bothering you?”

If this guy shows his concern some more, Beomgyu might just cry right there. It’s the burden of keeping this hidden, having to deal with the whole thing on his own that kills him slowly. But he knows better than to involve someone else into this, especially someone he barely knows.

“I’m okay, Soobin. Thank you, though,” he smiles brightly. A mask he has perfected these days so no one can see through.

At that, the taller male nods, waving good bye to him as he turns around to go. He watches Soobin’s back leaving, bowing to the guard and disappearing from the front gate. Instantly, he feels the fear is creeping back into his system, urging him to go up to his place quickly.

Once he is safe in the confinement of his apartment room, that’s when he can finally breathe properly again. His bag is thrown on the chair while the crumpled picture is joining the messy stack on top of his desk. Upon a single look, he can see the horror he’s going through for the past few months.

All of them are pictures of him, ranging from a simple scene of him talking to his friends, dozing in class, lining up at the cafeteria, crying from stress, to an extreme one like a picture of him hanging up laundry outside on the balcony. Ever since the first picture he received on the mailbox, he has lived with the fear of being watched.

His dreams are filled with nightmares. Eyes around him. Clicking of cameras taking his pictures wherever he goes. He’s not even a famous figure, nor does he think that he is good looking enough to attract this kind of attention.

_Why him?_

Every day, before he succumbs into a restless sleep, he thinks about what he has done to deserve this. It always ends in him curling under his blanket, hugging himself until he is broken free from the torture, only to be plunged back into the hell of nightmares.

Tonight, he dreams about a pair of gentle eyes worrying about him, making him feel warm and safe for once. This is the first fresh breath of air he experienced for the last few weeks.

\--

“Happy birthday!”

Beomgyu goes cross-eyed for a second as he looks up from his phone to a box presented to him. Behind it, there is a grinning face of Yeonjun. He remembers bugging the elder about his birthday present, but the date itself has slipped his mind from the constant horror he experienced lately.

Seeing that someone still remembers his special day, he feels happiness blossoms in his chest for the first time in forever.

“I can’t believe you really got me that present!” he takes the box, taking out a bracelet from it and admiring it for a bit before putting it around his wrist. “Thank you, hyung.”

Yeonjun ruffles his hair. “This is also a thank you gift for working so hard for our club. You stayed back so late again yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I don’t really feel like going home these days,” he mumbles, fingers fiddling with the silver around his wrist, until he snaps out of it and looks up with a smile on his lips. He doesn’t like seeing the worry in Yeonjun’s face. “It’s just lonely to live alone. Maybe I should find a roommate next term, once my rent is up.”

“You should. Maybe you could use a friend,” Yeonjun says, lips twisted to a side as he scrutinizes him.

Beomgyu makes a face at him. “I have a lot of friends.”

“But you know, people like us, we never really have a friend, right?”

People like them. The extroverts who instantly connect with everyone they meet and know every single person in the department, but never became close to any of them. Even the two of them are not close enough, not enough for Beomgyu to rely on the hyung for his little _problem_.

Yeonjun leaves him with a promise to hang out together with the other club members after school, and his mood lightens up a little more, even as he goes to class. He had a good night sleep and got a present from his friend. Perhaps the universe decided to go easy on him today. It’s his birthday, after all.

He can’t be any more wrong.

Before his last class started, Beomgyu dozed off in the lecture hall for a bit, head rested on the desk and his arm shielding his eyes from the light. He is shaken off by a classmate when the class is starting, which is not something new. What bothered him is the presence of a pink box on top of his desk.

“Do you know who left this here?” he hisses to the classmate in a low voice, since the lecture is starting already.

“No idea, dude. It’s already there when I came in.”

The glasses guy looks away from him, leaving him frowning and staring at the box, as if he could produce lasers from his eyes to see through the cardboard. It could be something from one of his club members for his birthday, and he should be elated for that, if only it is not for the presence of a familiar yellow coloured paper trapped under the box.

His fingers shake as he reaches for it. The voice of his professor giving a lecture about some renaissance theory sounds like it comes from a broken speaker to his ears, eventually dulled as it is replaced by the sound of his loud heartbeats.

He unfolds the paper, eyes frantically reading through the texts. It’s a poem, one that would be sweet and calming coming from someone else.

_I often think of where you are and if you’re happy. Are you in love? I hope she is gentle. I know you and I are the same in that way—we bruise a little more easily than most. You see, our souls were made in a same breath._

_I know I’m running late—I’m sorry. Things haven’t worked out the way I planned. But believe me when I tell you I am on my way._

The last line almost makes his heart stop.

His fingers are already clutching onto the edge of the paper, almost ripping it apart. That’s also when he noticed something off on his wrist.

On the place where his brand new bracelet should be, there is a scribble written in black sharpie across his inner wrist. ‘ _Sorry for the bracelet ^^’_. It’s handwritten unlike the other letters that were always written in printed letters. The thought of the unknown man being in a same room with him without him knowing, getting close to his table when he is asleep, taking off the bracelet, _and_ touching his hand. It makes his stomach twist with a sickening sensation.

His breathing comes in a short puff now, and he knows that he is on the verge of a panic attack. The glasses guy is looking at him. His lips moving, probably asking him something, but Beomgyu can’t hear anything. All the sounds around him are distorted, muddled by rippling water in his ears.

His hands frantically go for the box, ripping the cover open. He is greeted by a cute cake with _Happy Birthday, love_ written on top in icing, among the strawberries. It’s a strawberry shortcake. A fucking strawberry shortcake.

_“Mom, I really miss the strawberry shortcake you used to make for me…”_

He had the phone call two days ago, inside his apartment room. The place that was supposed to be the safest place for him.

For a split second, his sight turned red. He mildly registers someone calling his name, and then someone else is screaming. When he blinks the colour away from his eyes, he realizes that it was his voice, and that his books are already scattered on the floor. Pieces of cake and icing smushed on top of the stack.

Everyone’s eyes are on him, and he has never felt so suffocated in his life.

It takes him the rest of his energy to grab his bag and haul himself out of the class. His sight is blurred by angry tears as he brushes past the other students in the hallways. His shoulder stings as he slams himself against the bathroom door. Soon, he is holding his hand under the running water, rubbing the smudged writing on his skin to get rid of it. Get rid of the mark of that person’s presence and the touch of fingers he can feel pressing against his skin.

The blank ink is can’t be completely erased even after what feels like hours of washing and rubbing. His skin is all red from the rubbing and clawing, and his eyes are hurting from the crying. No one even bothers to check on him, not one person who enters the bathroom and sees this guy behaving weirdly at the sink.

He has never felt so alone. Eyes are on him, but all he could feel is a particular pair of eyes scrutinizing his every movement, ready to come for him.

_I am on my way._

A fresh wave of fear washes over him as he turns around to look at every corner of the restroom he has been staying in for the last hour. He can’t be here, too exposed for that person to come get him anytime he wishes.

Beomgyu spends the rest of his 20th birthday inside his dark bedroom. His blanket is pulled over his head and fastened under his chin by his fingers. He doesn’t know what he is waiting for, or if he will be ready for it, since he flinches at every slightest sound. The sound of car horn from down the road. The sound of bird flapping its wings outside of his window. The sound of his phone’s vibration that makes him jump and tear up.

He ends up calling his mom at 3 in the morning, masking his anxiety as the stress from school. She keeps talking to him even though she sounds so exhausted already, and he falls asleep only because of her comforting voice.

\--

When he wakes up the next day, it’s because of a vibration from his phone right next to his ear.

His state of mind is a little calmer this morning, since nothing happened during the night and his mother has said some comforting words to last him for the next week. He realizes that he missed his first class, but he does not get to worry about it when he picks up the call into Yeonjun’s solemn voice.

The air of foreboding is hanging around his head, threatening to choke him like a plastic bag.

_“Beomgyu, are you okay?”_

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he frowns.

 _“Listen, someone pushed me on the staircase yesterday,”_ Yeonjun says. The words gripping his heart, getting tighter with every heartbeat. “ _I’m okay, just sprained my ankle, and hit my head a little.”_

“But hyung, the dance competition—“

 _“It’s fine,”_ Yeonjun cuts him before he can blabber into the phone. _“I’m more worried about you. Heard that you caused a commotion at Prof. Lee’s class yesterday?”_

“That…” he trails off, unable to make an excuse.

_“I found your bracelet next to me when I fell. I really gave it to you yesterday morning, right? Did you give it back?”_

Beomgyu’s eyes fall on the inside of his wrist where he can still see a faint smudge of marker across his skin and red claw marks from his own nails. The bracelet. The person who took his bracelet is the same person who pushed Yeonjun off the stairs.

The person who stalks him is trying to harm the people he loves.

_“Beomgyu, hey—“_

“Hyung, you’re really okay, right? Please tell me you’re okay,” he asks frantically. Anxiety closing around him again after his maximum effort to get rid of it the night prior. His head is filled by all the bad thoughts that are starting to choke him, making him sob into the line. “It’s not me… hyung, it wasn’t me…”

_“Choi Beomgyu. I know it wasn’t you, okay? That’s why I’m worried for you.”_

He clamps his hand over his mouth, trying not to give away his current state. All while trying to catch some oxygen into his lungs. Tears start cascading down his cheeks again. Why is he crying so much?

“Hyung, I’m so sorry.”

“ _It’s not your fault, idiot. Are you coming to class today? Is something troubling you?_

He bites his lower lip. Teeth digging onto the soft flesh so hard that he can taste blood on his tongue. The words are already itching to climb up his throat. The secret that he has held on his shoulders for so long, with no one to confide in. But Yeonjun has been harmed just because he gave Beomgyu a bracelet. He does not deserve to be dragged further into this.

“I have something to do today.”

 _“Beomgyu?”_ Yeonjun calls out again, his voice still dripping with concern. _“If there’s something wrong, you will tell me, right?”_

That makes him inhale another sob, barely stifled by his hand. “Absolutely.”

Absolutely _not_.

The moment Yeonjun hangs up the call, Beomgyu jumps up onto his feet. He almost trips over the thick blanket wrapped around him, wildly grabbing the envelopes and pictures from his desk and messily stuffing them into his bag. He takes as much as he can, shouldering the bag and putting on his jacket as he runs off from his place.

He can’t take it anymore.

Before he knows it, he is already standing in front of the police station. His breathing is still ragged, and his fingers are wrapped tightly around the strap of his bag. His lips are still hurting from the incessant chewing as he contemplates on whether he should really report this case. Perhaps they would take it seriously, but there might be a possibility that they will brush it off as a silly secret admirer case.

What if he is just too sensitive?

He just does not know if he can live under the terror for any longer than this.

As he takes another step towards the building, his phone vibrates on his pocket. His heart almost explodes from the surprise, so he fishes it out, only to regret his decision when he reads the message showing up on his lockscreen.

[unknown]

_what are you doing at the police station?_

_you really think it’s a good idea?_

“No… no no no,” he chants, stepping backwards and almost dropping his phone at the realization that 1) the stalker knows his phone number and 2) the stalker is watching him right now.

He turns around to go back to where he comes from, eyes blank and mind disoriented. He didn’t even notice that the crossing light has turned into red when he crosses the road, only to be jerked back to reality at the cacophony of car horns and angry shouts directed at him. His eyes bulge out, before he drops into a squat right there in the middle of the street, his hands on either sides of his head to cover his ears.

The sounds are getting louder, but the vile thoughts inside his head are even louder. They are trying to kill him, wrapping around his throat and blocking his airways. There is nowhere in this world that he can sit down to feel safe, not even at his home, or the police station.

Beomgyu has never felt so helpless.

In his muddled state, he fails to register the pair of gentle hands grabbing him, coaxing him from his breakdown in the middle of the street. It’s the voice that has gone straight past the wall of white noises blocking his ears. The calming voice that he recalled from his dream.

All he knows is that he feels safe following this person, so he lets himself get dragged away from that noisy hell, all the way to the familiar surrounding of his apartment building.

When he has taken control of all his senses again, he is already sitting on his bed. His hands holding tightly on a warm cup of tea, while a very concerned Soobin is sitting on his study chair across of him.

“Beomgyu? Are you with me?” he asks softly.

He feels a gentle rubbing of thumb on the back of his hand, pulling him further in the embrace of comfort and safety he hasn’t felt for the last few weeks full of terror. When his hands are being pushed up slowly towards his mouth, he just obliges, taking a sip of the sweet liquid that calms his insides instantly.

It takes him a few more minutes until he regains himself back completely.

“I’m sorry that you had to see that,” he says softly, looking down on the empty cup on his hands and not at the elder. “It must be so embarrassing for you.”

“Why would it be? You don’t know how worried—I was just waiting for the light and then you were there, with cars around you.”

That gains his attention, making him look up and tilt his head to a side. “You were worried about me?”

“Of course.”

“I’m not even your friend.”

Soobin grows silent at that, lips pursed to a side. “That’s right, but you were distressed, I could feel it since the last time we met.”

Of course he does. Soobin is always nice to everyone, to the point that people might take advantage of his kindness sometimes. Beomgyu feels a weight starting to form inside his tummy at the thought of doing exactly that. Soobin is the first person who caught him in the middle of a breakdown, and he patiently stayed with Beomgyu through it. He does not want to take advantage of him further, but he _needs_ to.

“I… actually I have a problem,” he says softly.

Soobin’s eyes are following him as he takes his bag from the floor, unzipping it and spilling the contents onto his bed. All the envelopes and pictures of him, completed with the small letters. He feels a lump crawling up from his stomach back to his throat, feeling sick from looking at these photos of him. All taken without his consent.

“Someone has been taking pictures of me and sending me creepy letters. I think they also followed me home, at school, or I don’t know, maybe everywhere,” he shuts his eyes tightly. He is grateful that his tearduct seems to be resting for the day already, since he doesn’t feel the urge to cry. Just exhaustion washing over him. “Every time I’m walking alone, I feel like someone is watching me, following me. Even at home, I don’t feel safe anymore. I don’t know where else I can go… I’m so sorry for telling you all these but… I’m sorry.”

There is no response for a few moments, but he can hear shuffles of papers. He opens his eyes to Soobin shifting through the letters. A frown etched on his face.

“This is so wrong,” he whispers under his breath, looking as terrified as he was earlier. “Have you told anyone else about this? The police?”

“No. I wanted to go to the police just now, but they messaged me… They knew I was going there.”

“And it’s been going for a while already?”

“About three months.”

A gasp escaped Soobin’s lips, followed by a scrunch of his face into a displeased look. Beomgyu looks down to his fingers, realizing that he has been clenching them so tightly into fists. His palms are adorned with tiny crescent marks from his nails digging into his skin.

The silence is dragged for a little too long, long enough for a newfound anxiety to settle in his chest. Before it could bloom into something more dangerous, he feels a pat on top of his hair. The source of warmth is quickly spreading throughout his body, especially as he looks up to see Soobin smiling softly at him.

“You’ve endure it well for a long time,” he says. “But you’re not alone now. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

The fresh wave of tears is back on Beomgyu’s eyes, but this time it’s from the comfort that he feels. Unlike any other time that he cries, his lungs are not constricted, and he can breathe properly for the first time in months.

Soobin is allowing him to breathe, and he will probably forget how to do it without the male if this keeps going.

Soobin leaves with the promise of helping Beomgyu with it after his class, looking guilty for having to leave him alone after what he’s gone through. But with a shove from the smaller male, he finally takes off, stopping just as he’s stumbling out from the apartment.

“Why were you here anyway? Did I disturb something?” he asks.

“I just got back from Heejin’s place…” _his girlfriend. Right._

It just reminds Beomgyu that no matter how comforting Soobin is, there is a line that should not be crossed. That the reason he is here in the first place is because of his girlfriend and not because of the fate setting up this perfectly timed timeline for them to meet.

This is not a fairytale.

\--

Nothing is the same anymore after that breakdown he experienced on his birthday.

Beomgyu stops coming to club meetings and skips a lot of classes. He spends most of his time in the confinement of his bedroom, biting on his nails and looking up articles about stalkers and protections against them. None of these seems to help his situations.

He stops checking his mailbox or opening his door for a guest. Yeonjun and other club members came to check on him two days ago, only to be ignored by the door as Beomgyu burrows deeper into his blanket. Soobin also comes to check on him, and he almost crawls over to the door, tempted by the comfort that’s already within his reach, only to withdraw back into his own shell.

Perhaps if he disappears for a bit, that person will lose interest in him.

The moment he puts himself back in public’s eyes, it’s because of the exam week. At this point, he is too concerned about passing classes to be scared of the possibility of someone following him.

“Your attendance doesn’t make it for the cut. I shouldn’t allow you to take the exam.”

Okay, now that does sound more terrifying than anything else. In the end, he leaves the professor’s office with a list of assignment he has to do along with the exam project. He figures that these will at least keep him distracted enough from his initial problem.

Just as he steps out to the lobby, he has to face a very upset Choi Yeonjun.

“No calls, no texts, not opening your door for us,” he says as he corners Beomgyu, making him sit on one of the benches in the lobby. “Are you bailing on the club?”

Beomgyu brings his book up to cover his face, round eyes peering from the top of it to peek up at the elder. “I’m sorry.”

“So you’re really quitting, huh? Even though you were so excited for the gathering.”

That sounds like a plan made years ago, when it’s just something he got excited for a few weeks prior. The trip they have planned as a club, a little summer getaway after this stressful exam week. He has as much rights to have fun as the rest of his friends.

But as he caught a glimpse of Yeonjun’s leg that’s still limping as he walks to sit next to him, his heart breaks all over again.

It was his fault. 

“I’m dealing with something right now,” he says after exhaling a deep breath. “Plus the tasks I have to do for extra credits. I don’t know if I have some time for the club.”

He can feel the way Yeonjun is staring at the side of his face, seeking for answers just by reading his expressions. “Beom—“

“Hyung, please give me a little time off,” he cuts the latter before he can coax him. “I’m in a bad place right now, but as soon as it’s dealt with, I’ll be back to the Beomgyu you know, okay? Trust me.”

It’s funny. He can’t even trust his own words, but at least it seems to convince the hyung a little. Yeonjun exhales a sigh, reaching into his pocket and placing a familiar silver bracelet on top of Beomgyu’s thigh.

“I just wish you could trust me as well.”

Yeonjun leaves after he says that, leaving him staring at the silver in silence.

He promised the elder that he will deal with it, so he tries. The most he can do is sending a series of texts to the number that texted him back at the police station, fingers gripping his phone so hard so he won’t drop the device from the trembling of his fingers.

_Who are you and why are you doing this to me?_

_Can you please leave me alone?_

_I’m begging you._

_Whatever your intention is_

_If you need money, just tell me how much._

Some of the stones in his chest are lifted up after he sent those messages, knowing that now he is not just sitting around accepting what’s happening to him. The chance is low, but if there is a possibility that he can talk with this person and bargaining his way out of this, he will take it.

The rest of his day goes by with a little more ease. A privilege for him.

Small talks, stressful exams, scoldings from his other professors when he is asking for extra credits in return for his lack of attendance. Everything makes him feel a sense of normalcy. At least until he checks his phone again, the moment he steps out from the bus on his way home.

The street lamp at the end of the street is already fixed, but the yellowish light fills him with trepidation, which is just heightened by the message flashing across his screen.

[Unknown]

_Do you know that your hair smells like peach?_

_I want to wake up with my nose buried in your hair._

Beomgyu almost throws up at the message. At the thought of being in bed with the shadowed figure. At the realization that the person must have been close enough with him at some point to be able to smell his shampoo. It punches him in the guts. Making him sick.

_I can’t live without you._

That’s it.

For the first time, he is filled with more anger than fear, as he stomps the rest of his way home. He didn’t even hear Soobin calling out for him, until the guy runs after him, following him as he marches into the lobby of his apartment and punching the button of the elevator to make it come down faster.

“Hey, are you okay? I thought we were going to talk about it last week, but I couldn’t get a hold of you and—“

“Soobin,” he interrupts, gritting his teeth to keep himself calm, just so he won’t lash out at one of the very few friends he has left. “I’m furious right now. I think if that stalker shows up, I can choke and kill them with my bare hands.”

“What are you saying…”

“I’m going to make that person show up. I don’t care what he might do to me, I just want to—“

Before he can finish his sentence, the elevator door slides open. But that’s not the reason why he stops talking. It is what he sees inside the elevator that punches him right in the throat, stealing his voice away.

The metal box is decorated by pictures, and not just any pictures. It’s his nightmare turning into a reality as he steps into the elevator, eyes scanning the photos of himself taken from various angles. Pictures of him from months ago when he was still happy, talking to his friends and eating snacks. Pictures of him from today, looking down on his book as he talked to Yeonjun. Pictures of him sleeping _on his bed_.

The last picture is what makes him snap, stepping back against Soobin’s chest and breaking into a loud laughter. He is shaking so much, even as he turns back to see Soobin’s horrified face, he ends up laughing some more, clutching onto his stomach.

“Everything is fine with you guys?” the security uncle calls out for them on his desk.

Soobin cranes his neck to answer, still managing to sound friendly despite his shocked state. “Y-yes, sir! All is good!”

Beomgyu is still shaking with laughter as he is steered back into the elevator, leaning against the cold wall while watching the latter frantically rips all the photos off the walls. They go up slowly, and with each floor they pass, Beomgyu’s voice starts getting quieter, slowly turning into a whimper.

“That person was inside my apartment when I was asleep. He could have killed me right there,” his voice does not sound like his own, sounding too weak and shaky that he wants to punch himself in the face so he can bring back the brave Beomgyu who wanted to challenge the sick fucker. “Isn’t home supposed to be the safest place? I don’t know where else to go…”

He must have sounded so broken right now, because he caught a look in Soobin’s face when he looks up. Was it pity? He doesn’t care anymore. Because afterwards, the pair of arms are reaching out for him, gently pulling him from the dark corner he has painted for himself and into a warm embrace.

Soobin is hugging him, enveloping him in a safe place. A safer place than home.

“I’m sorry that you have to go through this,” he says. It makes Beomgyu tear up, finding back the function of his tearduct that has stopped functioning ever since that last breakdown he had. “We will figure this out together, okay? Please let me help you.”

There are a lot of scenarios running through his mind. The possibilities of Soobin ending up like Yeonjun, who got pushed off a flight of staircases just for giving him a birthday present. The right option should be to push this guy away. Soobin is too nice to be hurt.

But Beomgyu is not a nice person. He wants _this_. Wants to be selfish and welcome the safety offered to him by this tender soul.

He deserves at least this much.

\--

They ended up talking almost all night. Crumpled pictures and letters strewn across the bedroom floor as they try to find a clue. Beomgyu can’t bring himself to look at the pictures for too long, and it leaves them with Soobin hawk eyes scanning the stacks.

“Don’t you think that this might be someone you know? They seem to know your routines enough to follow you without getting caught, and they even knew your lock password.”

Beomgyu chews on his lower lip. “I have a lot of friends, but I can’t think of anyone who could be sick enough to do that.”

“Stalkers don’t look like stalkers.”

“But if this person has a crush on me, I could have caught on!”

“You wouldn’t catch it if I had a crush on you.”

At this comeback, Beomgyu snaps his gaze to look at the male who is lying down on his bedroom floor on his stomach, searching his face. His cheeks burn at the implications, but he quickly slaps his own cheeks with his palms to focus back on their task.

The one thing he needs to remember is that Soobin is doing this just because he pities him. Besides, he has a girlfriend who he seems to like a lot, to the point that he visited her every day.

_But he is with you instead of his girlfriend now._

The thought crossing his head makes him slap his cheek once again.

That gains Soobin’s attention. “Are you sleepy? We can do this tomorrow instead. I should go home.”

He starts getting up from his position on the floor, and Beomgyu finds himself panicking, tugging onto the hem of Soobin’s shirt. He lowers his gaze as the latter gives him a confused look.

“Do you want to stay? It’s past midnight, so there won’t be any buses—“

“I actually live close by…”

“I’m scared,” the words slipped past his lips before he can think about it, making him press them together in regret. Eyes cast down in shame.

God. Soobin probably hates him by now. He had let the guy deal with his two kinds of breakdowns, kept him in his apartment for hours just because he doesn’t want to be alone, and now he wants him to stay some more. Beomgyu is no better than those people who always took advantage of Soobin’s kindness at this point.

But he needs Soobin.

For once, let him be the bad guy.

“Can you please stay with me?” he asks again.

Soobin does stay with him in the end. He sits on the carpeted floor of his bedroom, head leaned back against the bed while Beomgyu is lying on his side, staring into the tufts of smooth locks. The light is off and the only lighting in the room comes from the moonlight filtering through the curtain of his balcony, but Beomgyu is not consumed by fear like any other day when he is curled alone in his bed.

“Soobin?” he whispers, earning a hum from the latter. “I’m thinking of what you said earlier and… what if it’s my ex-boyfriend who is doing this to me?”

“Your ex?”

“Yeah, Jinwoo from IT. We dated for like three months during my freshman year and he was a sore loser. I didn’t really think it was him since he never actually liked me, but what if…”

“We can’t eliminate any possibility at this point.”

Silence stretches between them afterwards, and Beomgyu thought that Soobin has already fallen asleep, if only it’s not for another hum in respond to him as he calls Soobin’s name again.

“Thank you for doing this.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Then… can I hold your hand when I sleep?”

Soobin tilts his head, meeting Beomgyu’s gaze even in the dimness of the room. There is a hint of smile playing on his lips, making Beomgyu want to haul himself off the balcony that is just a few steps away from the bed.

But he feels warm fingers wrapped around him, and he really does not want to go anywhere else.

“You ask for a lot of things, for someone who refused my help.”

Beomgyu’s smile is a rather dopey one as he starts dozing off. He can’t figure out the science behind the urge to fall asleep just by having his hand held, not with his head that is slowly turning into a liquidated state from the sleepiness.

He mildly remembers falling asleep with his cheek pressed against the back of Soobin’s palm, and Soobin’s smile at him before his sight is blurred and he is pulled deeper into the slumber. The most peaceful sleep he has had ever since the whole nightmare started.

When he wakes up in the morning, he is almost jolted into another panicky state when he realized that Soobin has left the place. That’s until he noticed a post-it plastered onto his forehead, with a neat handwriting scribbled across of it along with a set of numbers.

_Good morning, sleepyhead! Gotta go early for morning class. Call me if you need me or my hand again._

It’s a small gesture, yet it fills Beomgyu’s chest with an overwhelming sense of safety. Soobin is the epitome of his safety right now, and he has to _deal_ with this stalker quickly if he wants to return the same of safety to the guy, or Soobin might end up like Yeonjun, or even worse.

Because what he had for Yeonjun was not any close to the feelings he started to develop for Choi Soobin.

-

The exam week is stressful enough to take Beomgyu’s mind off his nightmares. As he is more focused in pulling an all-nighter to complete his essays or cramming a four months-worth of syllabus into his head, it is hard to notice a pair of eyes following him or noises inside his apartment at night.

It might also have something to do with the phonecalls he shared with Soobin during his walk home. The darkness of the street is not as intimidating anymore because of the gentle voice flowing from the phone pressed to his ear, or the soft laughter that he managed to coax out from the tall male with his lame jokes.

They lull him into a fake sense of comfort, leading him to think that everything will be okay.

He can just ignore the envelopes in his mailbox and the texts from his stalker, acting like they don’t exist, and perhaps he can live his life normally. It is believable until he received another text that acts as a ripple across a calm surface of water.

[unknown]

_Don’t you miss me, beautiful?_

_Why don’t you check your mailbox for once?_

_I have a present for you._

The very suspicious timing of the messages is what shaken him off his firm resolve to ignore the whole matter. They are sent to his phone just as he walked past the rows of mailbox towards the elevator, and as he still has to wait for the metal box to come fetch him, he decided to indulge the disgustingly worded request.

Sitting on top of the stack of yellow envelopes that he ignored throughout the week, a different kind of pictures are glaring at him. Instead of his own face, it’s the very familiar face of Choi Soobin that greets him when he takes the photos.

His heart thumps loudly, painfully, at the realization of what’s happening.

It’s a warning.

Before he can recover from the horror that is stunning him in place, his phone gives another buzz in his hand. An incoming message flashing across the still opened chatbox. This time, it’s a picture of a familiar tall male taken from behind. He is wearing the same maroon jacket as the one Soobin wore this morning when they met during lunch.

His chest constricts with fear. Red filling his sight for a split second as the anger and terror rush up to his head, making him lightheaded. All he can remember when he runs back outside of the building is Soobin’s name on his lips. But what comes out of his mouth is a scream.

“SHOW YOURSELF! I’M NOT AFRAID OF YOU!” he yells into the dark street, only illuminated by a cheap lightbulb from the street lamp above him. “I’M SICK OF YOU, COWARD. IF YOU WANT TO SAY SOMETHING TO ME, JUST SAY IT TO MY FACE. STOP HURTING PEOPLE THAT I LOVE!”

He doubles over as he choke over the cold hair inhaled into his lungs, clutching onto his chest as he pants. There is no fear anymore, only repulsion and an intense loathing, as he stares at the white mist on the air caused by his cold breathing.

“Please… just show up and end everything. I’m so tired…” in the end, his voice turns into a whimper under his breath, reminding him of how weak he is.

“Kid, is everything okay?”

A voice from behind him almost causes his heart to fall off its socket. He whips around on his feet, eyes bulging out as he stares at the friendly security uncle who is walking towards him warily.

“Are you in trouble?” he looks genuinely worried, with a hint of alert, that should have given Beomgyu a sense of safety. Yet he also knows that the security guard can’t help him with this faceless person he is dealing with. Aware of it from the many months of undetected activity inside this very building he should be protecting.

Ignoring the questions, he breaks into a sprint. His phone is pressed to his ear as he dials Soobin’s number.

_“Beomgyu? Hi—“_

“Where are you right now?”

_“Huh?”_

“QUICK. WHERE ARE YOU RIGHT NOW?” he yells into the call, almost feeling guilty as he can picture how Soobin flinches on the other side of the line. “Please… I need to see you right now. Need to know you’re safe…”

There is a moment of silence that nearly drives him crazy, followed by a confused hum, before Soobin finally tells him where he is.

He has never run so fast before, to the point that it doesn’t take him five minutes to reach the shopping street near the bus stop he frequents. His eyes frantically search for a particular figure among the people visiting the night street vendors. He is not afraid of what that mysterious person could do to him anymore, but to Soobin, and it’s an even worse feeling.

“Beom—“before his name could fall off from Soobin’s lips, he is already crashing onto him. His arms wrapped around the other’s waist and his face pressed into his shoulder.

He is overstepping the boundary. Soobin is only here because he feels bad for him, and Beomgyu is taking more than offered to him. But how could he not? When Soobin is staring at him with his tender gaze, coaxing him to look up with a hand on his cheek, and thumb gently brushing over the apple of his cheek.

This kind of things that Soobin does. They make it harder for him not to catch feelings.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” he says once he finds his voice again, blinking away the little moment of stupor as he gazes up at the other male. “That person… he took pictures of you and sent them to me. I don’t want anything to happen to you. It would kill me.”

“I can protect myself, Beomgyu. What happens to me is not your responsibility.”

“It is! And it would hurt me more if something happens to you!”

Soobin frowns at that, instantly snapping him back into realizing what he just implied. “Why?”

Everything feels more vivid now. The body heat pressing against him. The cold wind blowing against his nape. The contrasting warmth of Soobin’s hand on his cheek. The sparkles of fairy lights along the street, reflected in the depth of Soobin’s eyes.

For a split second, he thinks that it’d be so easy just to lean in and steal a kiss from the pair of plush lips. And that’s when he finally breaks away from the daze, slapping himself on his cheek.

“Nevermind. I’m just being stupid,” he says before turning around, walking away to the direction he came from.

Soobin easily caught up to him, briskly walking next to him. “What is it? I told you, you can always tell me when something is bothering you.”

If only he knows that this has nothing to do with the stalker. He has a bigger problem waiting for him at home, yet all he thinks about is how he wanted to kiss Soobin and how shameless he is.

“Aren’t you on the way to visit your girlfriend? Don’t mind me.”

“Why does that make you upset?” Soobin takes a big step with his long leg, blocking his way completely so that the next step he takes resulted in his nose bumping against the latter’s chin. “Choi Beomgyu!”

“What!” he shouts back, rubbing his nose as he glares at Soobin who is looking at him with a conflicted gaze.

“Do you like me?”

Beomgyu gapes at him, but the next thing falls off his lips is a series of cough as he chokes on his spit. His face reds from the lack of oxygen entering his lungs and Soobin still cares enough to pet his back through it.

He wishes he could die right there instead of dealing with the shame.

They ended up sitting on the side of the street. Beomgyu’s hands cupping a cup of warm coffee they got from a vending machine while Soobin is munching on his corndog, finishing what he started before Beomgyu’s arrival. He told the guy about what happened back at the apartment. The texts, photos, and his mini breakdown at the empty street. Now everything sounds dumb coming from his own mouth, especially since Soobin doesn’t seem so bothered.

“I broke up with Heejin, by the way,” that’s what he said in the end, almost sending Beomgyu into another coughing fit. “That day I saw you in the middle of the road, I just got dumped.”

“But you’re still coming to the apartment… so I thought…”

“I was worried about you,” he says, looking straight into Beomgyu’s eyes, holding his gaze so he can’t shy away. “Not sure why, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, not before I knew that you’re okay.”

The fact that Soobin does think of him cause this sprout of hope to bloom inside his chest, that maybe there could be something good waiting at the end of this nightmare. But he has to find a way to end it first, if he doesn’t want things to end up badly.

“Soobin,” he calls out just as he casts his gaze down to his coffee, watching the dark liquid. “Will you go on a date with me, after this whole thing ends?”

There’s a dragged moment of silence that is stretched out for a beat too long, before Beomgyu feels his hand pried off the cup. Fingers are slipping between his own, locking them together in a warm and intimate lock that fills his chest with a burst of warmth.

“Why wait? Can’t this be our first date?” he suggests.

Beomgyu shakes his head, determined to put an end to the terror first before he could dare himself to make a move. He woudn’t be able to breathe properly if he has to worry about the person being anywhere near his Soobin, taking his pictures. He doesn’t want Soobin to go through the same thing as him. Or Yeonjun.

A sigh sounds from next to him, but his hand is kept in the comforting hold for the rest of the night. “It’s a semi-date, then.”

He doesn’t hate it.

-

On the very next day, Beomgyu finds his way to the IT department.

There are a few familiar faces in this side of the building, but most are not friendly for the fact that he had a nasty breakup with one of the popular seniors there. Still, he knows his way through this place, and where exactly he can find the said guy.

“Lee Jinwoo,” he calls out to attract the attention from the male who is smoking alone at the sixth floor’s balcony.

His hands are balled into fists on his sides, shaking subtly from the nerves. This could be the person who stalked him. The one who knows the pass code into his apartment and his routines. The one who has been threatening him under the pretense of being in love with him.

“If it isn’t our little beomie,” he says when he looks up, feigning a surprised look.

Beomgyu pins his feet onto the ground, trying to make himself look bolder with his chin tipped up and a smug look on his face despite the storm brewing inside him. When the guy is close enough, he blows a mouthful of grey smoke right onto his face. A past habit that Beomgyu hates the most.

“I know what you’re doing,” he spits, watching as the elder’s face darken. The smirk wiped away from his face. “You won’t get away with it if you keep going, I promise you this. You weren’t really careful about your drugs-dealing business after all. I can bring you down.”

“What the hell do you want?” he growls, jerking forward with a hand slammed to the wall next to Beomgyu’s head.

This time, he is standing tall, not even flinching at the loud impact of the smack. His gaze hardens as he stares at the latter.

“Just stop it. If I catch you doing so much as looking my way, I will end your whole life.”

The bothered look in Jinwoo’s eyes brought more confidence in him. His hands are not shaking anymore now, gaining strength as they shove the male with bigger build away from him right on his chest. The hateful look doesn’t even induce fear in his chest, unlike those little notes and photos that have been haunting him for a while.

He won’t let the fear get to him anymore.

[unknown]

_You’re so wrong for this._

The text comes as he leaves the building to go to his side of the campus, and for once, it brings a smile to his face. If he had been any smarter before, he could have ended the torture earlier. It’s only now that he has a purpose that it’s ending for real.

-

For the first time in months, Beomgyu feels like himself again.

The looks thrown at him upon his entrance to the club room are intimidating, threatening to flatten his confidence and throwing him off his streak. But then Yeonjun throws himself at him for a big hug, and finally he notices that everyone is grinning instead of scrutinizing him. It’s a sick game of his mind, making him think that any pair of eyes looking at him is watching him like an animal in the zoo.

“You’re back? You’re really back?” Yeonjun genuinely sounds so happy, mushing his cheeks against Beomgyu’s. And then everyone starts joining in.

“Back just in time for the gathering!”

“Did you save all your classes? Damn, your power, Choi Beomgyu!”

“Bet you can’t wait to see the scheduled plans!”

He is truly not alone. How did he fail to see any of this before?

-

Things are calm. A little too calm, it’s almost suspicious.

Beomgyu is finally letting himself feel happy again, yet he gets a fake sense of calmness akin to a sunny day before a big storm blows over. The best he can do is telling himself that it will pass, that he will get used to laughing with his friends again just like what he is doing today.

With a backpack snug on his shoulders, he walks towards the bus stop where they promised to meet. The first bus is scheduled to leave soon for their hiking trip, and at least for today, he hopes to drive his thoughts away from the yellow envelopes scattered over his desk, which he has yet to throw out.

 _“I can throw them away for you, you know,”_ Soobin says when he mentioned it over the call. _“They’ve been sitting around too long on your desk, so I figured that you don’t even want to look at them anymore_.”

Beomgyu bites on his lower lip, wondering how the guy always understands his line of thoughts even as he himself finds it difficult to verbalize it.

“You will…?”

“ _I’ll stop by at your place later? When you come back, everything will be gone, and you can start a new chapter.”_

“Will you start a new chapter too?”

“ _Hm_?”

“About that date…” he trails off, face already flushed red from what he’s about to say when someone calls his name from a few meters away. He nearly drops his phone seeing Yeonjun waving at him, signing for him to hurry up. Sputtering into the phone, he quickly ends the conversation. “I’ll text you the passcode, okay? Thank you in advance, Soobin.”

_“Have fun!”_

He caught Soobin’s cheery voice from the other line just before he hangs up and makes a little run towards his group. A new chapter after he comes back from this trip sounds lovely. He can’t wait to get home and see no trace of the nightmare left in his room.

After that, he will be able to appreciate the fairy lights sparkling inside Soobin’s eyes a little better.

That’s what he thought.

It would have been a peaceful day full of laughter. A great start for this so-called new chapter, if it’s not for the series of texts that jolted him up from his little nap on the bus. He remembers getting into the seat next to Yeonjun and telling him to stay still while he dozes off. Now his disgruntled mind is trying to figure out how long he has been asleep for, since he can see a number of unread texts and missed phonecalls.

[unknown]

_You really thought you can get rid of me like that?_

_Nothing can get between us, princess._

_I’m on my way._

A fresh wave of fear makes its way back into his system upon reading the texts. It’s raw. More palpable than before, he can taste it on his tongue through the taste of his own blood from bitten lip. “No… it’s not happening…” he whispers under his breath.

Jinwoo should be scared off from last time. He is a coward, so he won’t be able to threaten him like this. This can’t be happening.

When he shakily taps the message to open the chatroom, he is greeted by several pictures. All taken _inside_ his apartment room. The picture of his desk with the envelopes still messily stacked on top, his unmade bed from when he left this morning, the unwashed dishes in the sink. Someone is inside his place right now, violating his safest place.

Another picture shows up, punching Beomgyu right on his guts as he recognized the view. The familiar canvas of glow in the dark little stars scattered over his ceiling. The view he sees every night before he falls asleep. This fucker is lying down on his bed.

_Come home quick so you can join me?_

_I’m waiting_.

Someone is in his home, lying down on his bed, and waiting for him to come back to do whatever vile things he had in store. Someone is going to be there when Soobin comes to get the envelopes.

Fuck. _Soobin_.

“Hyung. Yeonjun hyung,” he turns on his seat to face the elder who quickly gives him a questioning look. It must be the horror that’s drawn all over his face that makes the hyung grow alarmed at once, sitting up straight. “How long has it been? I—I need to go back.”

“Roughly an hour? We’re almost there—“

Beomgyu tunes him out as he tries to dial Soobin’s number, falling back into despair when it goes straight to voicemail. He keeps trying nonetheless, ignoring the stream of questions from the concerned hyung on his side until he can’t take it anymore. His heart is beating inside his chest, thumping so loud. So loud.

And he finally breaks.

“Someone is in my apartment right now, and Soobin is supposed to drop by later, but I can’t call him right now and I can’t tell him to not come… it’s not safe. He could—“what? What is going to happen? The fact that he doesn’t even know the extent of what this stalker can do just terrified him even more.

He is spiralling down into another breakdown. Stomach twisting from the constant jolts caused by the moving bus. He feels like he is going to throw his heart up from his throat, and Soobin is not anywhere close to calm him down now.

Instead, he could be lying unconscious on his bedroom’s floor. Anytime soon, his phone would vibrate and that unknown number will send that picture to him. He doesn’t think he could live with that kind of image in his head.

For a period of time, Beomgyu is swimming in a thick liquid instead of sitting on the bus. He couldn’t comprehend what’s happening around him, until Yeonjun’s voice pierces through the cotton in his ears, and he snaps out of it. His eyes focused back on the elder’s concerned face. And he just now realized that they’ve moved into a cab.

“We’re on our way back. I called the cops to make them check on your place,” he says softly.

Beomgyu blinks a few times at him, hands still shaking as he accepts the bottle of water offered to him and take a sip from it, keeping his lips pressed against the lid so he won’t have to explain anything. But they have too much time on their hands, and Beomgyu finally tells him everything with his voice barely coming up above a whisper.

From the first letter, the photos of him that came afterwards, the feeling of being watched for the longest time, and the little relief that comes in the form of Choi Soobin. It was like coming up to the surface for fresh air.

And that’s why he is suffocated now.

“I’m sorry that you have to do this for me. I ruined the trip for you,” he says softly in the end, finally able to look into Yeonjun’s eyes.

Thankfully, it’s not pity that is drawn all over his face, it’s more concern than anything else, and even a hint of guilt. “Why did you never tell us before? We could have tried to help… or just help you cope with it. I can’t imagine how alone you must have felt.”

A familiar sting makes it into Beomgyu’s eyes, and he could have cried right there, if only it was not for Yeonjun’s phone ringtone ripping the silence between them.

His soft gaze instantly hardens again as he answers the call, and Beomgyu is dying to know what is happening. It can’t be a good thing, since now he can see the apartment building getting closer, and he can see the crowds around the otherwise deserted area. He can also see the flashing lights from the police car against the solid wall. Each flash of red and blue build up his anxiety further, to the point it reaches his throat, choking him.

“What’s happening?” He demands once Yeonjun lowers the phone from his ear, shaking his arm when he is not getting an answer right away. “Hyung, what’s going on?”

“Beomgyu, listen. You need to breathe—“

At that moment, the cab stops before the building, and he hops off from the vehicle before Yeonjun can grab him. Each step he takes towards the crowd of people is filled with trepidation. He doesn’t care what happened to his apartment room, as long as he can see Soobin.

He’s barely making it through the people, shouldering his way through it and almost making it to the other side when his hand got pulled. “What?” he screams, facing Yeonjun who’s out of breath.

“I told you to calm down, didn’t I? Breathe first, or I won’t let you go anywhere,” Yeonjun says. His fingers are gripping tightly around Beomgyu’s wrist, and he instantly knows that the hyung actually means it. So he swallows back the urge to fight him, taking a deep breath and letting Yeonjun drag him away from these people.

“What is it? Seriously hyung, I need to find—“

“Something happened in your room. I don’t know the details but,” he stops for a bit, analysing Beomgyu’s face, probably making sure that he won’t be thrown into another breakdown from his choice of words. “There was a fight, and someone got thrown off the balcony.”

His room is on the seventh floor. There is no way that person would survive. If it’s Soobin… God, if it was Soobin.

“It’s Lee Jinwoo. I’m not sure why he was there, but—“

Beomgyu’s legs lost all their strength, weak with relief as he falls into a squat. His face pressed to his palms as he can feel tears escaping his eyes. “You should’ve led with that, hyung,” he groans, can’t even yell anymore despite the urge.

“Sorry,” he grimaces, lowering himself to peek at Beomgyu’s face. By how the grim expression is still stuck in his face, this can’t be a good news. “They also told me that Choi Soobin’s in the police station.”

\--

It’s like a whole year of terror is packed into one day.

The sky has turned dark as Beomgyu sits down at the front of the police station, hugging his knees while watching people going in and out of the building. None of them is the person he wants to see the most.

Yeonjun has gone back to the trip since he’s the president of the club and he had promised to join after they settled his problems, and Beomgyu can’t demand for more from the hyung. At least thanks to Yeonjun, they were informed about what happened back at the apartment. The place that is now filled with police lines and officers gathering evidence.

The incident happened when the cops Yeonjun called arrived at the site, just in time for them to see a body being flung off the balcony. They detained Soobin right away, bringing him into the station, and quickly confirming his innocence after several witness statements, confirmed by the footages from security cameras around the street.

Soobin just has to stay to file a full statement on what happened, and he will be set free. They also confirmed his initial statement about how Lee Jinwoo has been threatening Beomgyu’s safety, searching his dormitory room to find the evidence of a camera and several photos of Beomgyu kept under his bed.

That part makes him feel sick. But there is nothing to be thrown up as he hasn’t had anything for the whole day. He is numb from any pain and emotions. The only thing he needs is to see Soobin safe, and he can finally breathe properly again.

It’s forever until he hears Soobin’s voice again. Didn’t even notice the sound of footsteps approaching him until he looks up and sees the tall male towering over him.

“Why are you here?” he asks, folding his knees to squat down so he is on eye level with Beomgyu, staring right into his eyes. “You should’ve waited somewhere else.”

“I need to know that you’re safe,” he sniffles, rubbing his pinkish nose with the back of his hand.

Soobin shakes his head, reaching out to take Beomgyu’s hand. His thumbs rubbing comforting circles on his palm, just before he presses a kiss on top of it. “I’m here, right? I told you I can protect myself. Do you trust me now?”

Blinking up at the latter, Beomgyu suddenly wants to cry for an entirely different reason.

“I trust you. I always do.”

At his answer, Soobin smiles, leaning his cheek onto Beomgyu’s palm. His eyes are holding that sparkle again, coming from the street lamps this time. Beomgyu thinks that he can look at them forever.

Now that he is in the safest place, perhaps he has _forever_ to spare for that purpose.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you get this far, hear me out,,,  
> the story basically ends here and you can stop reading if you liked this ending!  
> because if you go to the next chapter, it might not be what you expected to see <3
> 
> poem is (lang leav - a postcard)
> 
> ++ let me know if i should add a particular tag!


	2. Chapter 2

Since his apartment room is still lined by yellow ribbons, Beomgyu can’t possibly spend the night there. Instead, he finds himself being steered into Soobin’s place, eyes wide and lips parted at how big the place is. He almost feels guilty for making Soobin stay behind at his junk apartment room when he has that huge, comfortable bed waiting for him.

“Can I really stay here for the night?” he asks, eyes still scanning the room before they find their way back to Soobin’s. “You’ve done too much for me.”

“You can stay here as long as you want. Take the bedroom.”

Before he can protest, he is already pushed into the said bedroom. Soobin tells him to make himself comfortable first while he will grab a drink for him. And as much as he wants to do that, he ends up sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes flitting around the room.

There are so many things he needs to learn about Soobin. He wants to know everything, want to see what kind of person Soobin is from the rows of books on the shelves, and the mini collections of figurines on his desk. As he spots the desk, he is intrigued by the messy state of it, reminding him so much of himself.

Soobin looks like a neat person unlike him, yet he is just the same.

He can’t hold back a small grin from forming on his lips as he scans through the items on the desk. Marked papers, coloured pencils, cute highlighters. An envelope.

It’s hidden well among the papers, probably forgotten. Beomgyu only spots it because of the edge that’s peeking out. The familiar colour glaring at him.

It’s all too familiar from the countless of times he took the very similar kind of envelope out from his mailbox. His hand flies to snatch it so fast, to the point that he got a papercut from a random paper on the desk. But he barely feels it. Hands shaking as he opens the envelope, exposing a photo of himself.

The photo is one that he’s never seen before. It’s taken recently. Probably from that time he went to IT department to confront Jinwoo. There is no way that man could take this one.

His heart is beating hard again, and he thinks that he might have a failure anytime soon. Especially when he jumps at the sound of Soobin coming back into the room. His hand quickly crumpling the envelope into a small ball of paper, decorated by his own blood that’s still seeping out from the papercut on his palm.

Each footstep Soobin takes towards him accelerates the blood race in his veins, to the point that he’s getting lightheaded by the time the taller male stops behind him. A cup of steaming milk is placed on the desk next to his hand.

But he is not looking at it anymore, not when his eyes caught a piece of paper pinned to the wall in front of the desk. It’s a poem. One that’s too familiar for him because of the horror that it brought to him from his birthday. He knows all the words in the back of his head.

“You’re reading it?” Soobin says, voice so close to him that Beomgyu has to shrink himself to not have his back pressed against his front. “This is my favourite poem. I knew you’d like it too.”

His voice is still so gentle and calming, piercing right into the cloud of terror in Beomgyu’s head and bloodstreams. He is led into that false sense of security again, dragged into what he claimed as his ‘safest place’. But there is too much going on inside his head right now, and Soobin has probably found out about the envelope, since he can’t hold onto it anymore.

The crumpled, bloodied paper is rolling onto the table with a soft thud, but Soobin is not paying attention to it. Instead, he is taking Beomgyu’s wounded hand, lacing their fingers together. The stickiness of blood brings a disgusting sensation against Soobin’s warm hand.

But that doesn’t seem to bother Soobin, since he is still smiling so sweetly, with those charming lips of his. Beomgyu squeezes his eyes shut as he feels them tracing along his earlobe.

The whisper that’s caressing his soft ear is one that is haunting his dreams for the following nights, adorned by a pair of pretty lips and gentle eyes.

“After all, our souls were made in a same breath.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you reached this part of the ending... let's have a discussion! 👀


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